


Sweet on You

by speedgriffon



Series: It's Just a Flesh Wound | Rosie Sheridan Fics [10]
Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Developing Relationship, Emotions, F/M, Fluff, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedgriffon/pseuds/speedgriffon
Summary: Butch struggles to come to terms with how he feels for his traveling companion. In a quiet moment he keeps staring, wishing and wanting for something more...but what the hell does he even want? And what does Rosie want?
Relationships: Butch DeLoria/Female Lone Wanderer
Series: It's Just a Flesh Wound | Rosie Sheridan Fics [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710277
Comments: 13
Kudos: 49





	Sweet on You

**Author's Note:**

> Writing from Butch's POV was gonna happen sooner or later, and tackling his EMOTIONS was so much fun. He's just a boy who can't deal (and actually just wants some smooches too).

Butch was starting.

He knew he was doing it, but he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. From over the pages of the comic book, still stuck on the same panel for the last half hour, he had been looking at Rosie from across the cramped room—just watching her. They were camped out in a cleared-out storage room in the Metro tunnels on their way back to Megaton, the door wedged shut so they’d both be able to rest. But neither had fallen asleep after snacking on their rations—retreating to their own spaces to sit in comfortable silence.

Rosie was sitting atop her bedroll, legs crossed as she scrawled away in her journal with the same concentrated expression as always. She would pause to nibble on the back of the pencil, lips moving as she silently read over the words she had written. A little glimmer would sparkle through her eyes when she thought of something new, scribbles intensifying until she was satisfied. If she was deep in thought, she would press her fingers to her forehead, brushing her too-long dark-brown hair out of her face, mumbling when strands would get caught in her glasses. (Butch didn’t understand why she still refused a haircut from him.) Sometimes those fingers would trail down to her cheek, tapping further down to rub at the pulse point of her neck and—

Butch gulped, watching her as she did just that, head tilted to the side as she glanced down at her notebook with a sigh. She had unzipped her vault suit just enough that he could see the pale expanse of her neck and barely— _just barely_ —her collarbone peeking out. If he was any closer he might have been able to peer down and check for cleavage. He closed his eyes tight, wondering when he had gotten around to checking out her body.

He’d been staring at her a lot recently, but if he was being honest with himself—which he almost never was—he’d been looking her way a lot longer than in recent weeks. And it wasn’t just to take a quick glance at her ass or tits. Butch had been studying her behavior, her moods, memorizing the little quirks that made her happy and the actions that irritated her beyond reason. Now that they had built a friendship, he wasn’t about to go back to the way things were in Vault 101. The longer he observed, however, the more he began to realize he had started to care for her—and that was as frightening as it was nauseating. He had gone soft in her company and maybe that he could reconcile but he didn’t want to admit he had grown sweet on her.

Out of all the girls in the Wasteland, Rosie was the last person Butch wanted to have feelings for. Maybe because they were practically attached at the hip ever since meeting up in Rivet City all those months ago—if he had the opportunity to be around other gals, maybe he’d have the chance to get lucky, spread his wild oats (he swore he heard some of the older vault guys use the phrase). The thought of ditching Rosie behind just to sleep around provided him with enough guilt that he shook the idea away. Sure, she’d get along fine without him, but there was something about being separated from her that didn’t sit right with him. They were a team, a _gang_ , and— _shit_ —Butch was a lot more than just sweet on her.

And yeah, they’d kissed—which only intensified his feelings. Rather, he’d kissed her, given her one hell of a good first kiss that he hoped she documented in full detail in her journals. _Dear Dairy, Butch DeLoria is the best kisser in the Capital Wasteland_ —not that she had a reference point—and not that he wanted her to have one. He kissed her because—well, why the hell not? He _wanted_ to, and even if she hadn’t dared him, he might have gotten around to it sooner or later. Lucky for him that Rosie wanted the same thing.

At first, he thought it would be fun to be her _test subject_ —as he coined, thinking he’d be living the easy life as her companion with a few extra added perks. But after an evening of lip-locking and sucking face she sent him back to the common room, red-faced and hair disheveled. He took the dismissal in stride, thinking it would be only a matter of time before she was grabbing at his collar for round two—but that never came. Not the next day, not the day after and not as they traveled from Rivet City back West.

Though, what did he expect? This was Rosie—goodie-two-shoes, prudish, never-been-kissed (until he got his hands on her) _Rosie_. Ever the shy and timid _nerd_ , she wasn’t going to make the first move or express any heartfelt emotions—if she had any to share. Butch suddenly felt uneasy, wondering if _that_ was the case—did Rosie even…like him that way? She seemed receptive to playing tonsil-hockey and if her jittery, nervous behavior was any clue to go off of, she liked him plenty.

Okay, but then why the sudden avoidance? Man, girls were weird. It was never this hard in the vault. Or maybe it was, with the slim pickings and the rampant jealousy, but he definitely cared less back then. He was used to getting what he wanted, fueled by teenaged hormones, but something was holding him back when it came to _her_. With Rosie he couldn’t just manhandle her or sweet-talk her clothes off. And while the thought of her naked was more than nice (he _really_ didn’t want to admit to how much more frequent those dreams had been), the idea of having something a little more stable with her was _nicer_.

When he was sixteen, he had tried _going steady_ with Susie Mack, only because she was constantly hanging off his arm anyways. It was fun, but it didn’t last very long—and her dad made sure they never got _proper_ alone time. He grimaced—now was not the time to be thinking of former flames. He wondered if there even was such thing as dating or traditional courtship in the Wasteland. Not that he was much of a romantic, but for Rosie, he wanted to try. _Dear Diary, Butch asked me to be his girlfriend!_ Maybe she’d etch little hearts around his name. He felt a dumb grin pull at his lips.

At the same time, Rosie ‘s eyes flicked up and did a double take when she realized he was looking over before smiling sweetly, bashfully. Her palm went flat against her neck, fingers curled in her hair as she regarded him. In that moment, for Butch, it was the cutest damned thing she could’ve done, sending his heart into a pitter-patter— _damnit_ —she didn’t even know what she did to him, did she?

Just as she glanced back to her journal, he shifted, catching her attention. “Hey.”

In the small space, it didn’t take long for him to move over to where she was, pausing when she flinched in surprise at his sudden closeness. She quickly closed her notebook, holding it to her chest as she looked at him. “Butch?”

Admittedly he hadn’t thought his movements out thoroughly enough. What was he going to do? Scoot over to her and just lay one on her unexpectantly? He wasn’t sure if Rosie would be as open to that sort of action given how much time had passed since their last kiss. He reminded himself firmly— _no manhandling_ —unless she asked for it, which only had him wondering if she _would_. _Oh, Butch—take me!_

He blinked hard, snapping himself out of the fantasy before he got carried away. 

“Butch?” she called his name again, shoulders relaxing a little as she stared at him in confusion. “You’re…really quiet.”

Yeah, he had been pretty silent that evening—just watching her write as he tried to read his comic while Three Dog’s voice quietly echoed from her discarded Pip-Boy nearby. Usually he had a snippy remark for everything and never wanted to stop talking until he passed out, so this was highly uncharacteristic. Her eyebrows knitted together the longer the silence stretched, and he awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Yeah, about that,” he started, sitting in front of her properly. Their knees knocked together, but she didn’t move away—not that she really could with the stack of lockers behind her. “I’ve been thinking.”

Rosie only looked more perplexed, hesitant even as she nodded. “Okay.”

Butch scratched at the back of his head, finding it difficult to meet her eyes. Suddenly his entire body felt too warm even though he had already discarded his jacket—he tugged at his shirt collar just to will some air against his skin. It shouldn’t have to be this hard. “Ya’ think when we get back home, we can find some time to…go out?”

Realization slowly fell across her features and to his relief, she didn’t appear upset. “Are you—Butch, are you asking me on a _date_?”

The little smile that she struggled to hold back was the most adorable thing. He flashed her his best, winning grin. “Yeah, yeah I am. Whatcha say?”

Rosie dragged her teeth over her bottom lip nervously, but the action only made him focus on her mouth, thinking back to his original plan and how much he wanted to kiss her. In true Rosie fashion, she simply nodded, nervously avoiding eye contact as their legs bumped together again.

“You gotta say it out loud, Stitches,” he teased, unable to resist from using his pet name for her. 

She rolled her eyes, cheeks tinted pink. “Fine. _Yes_.”

“Yes, what?” He knew he was risking getting rejected, or worse, kicked out of the safety of the room, but he needed to hear her say the words.

She locked onto his eyes, baby-blues shimmering. “Butch, I’ll go on a date with you.”

He nodded, trying to hide his glee but it was hard not to smile at her and how pleased she looked. _He_ had done that, and he wanted to keep thinking of ways to make her happy—anything to keep a smile on her face. It only seemed natural to lean in and at least try his luck, flicking his gaze from her eyes to her lips so she’d get the hint. She didn’t lean away but rested her hand against his knee, pushing slightly so he’d stop.

“Butch,” Rosie’s voice was soft, and he shifted uncomfortably—she was going to be the death of him. “You called Megaton _home_.”

He shrugged. “Well, yeah.”

Briefly, her smile increased before she closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his in a soft and chaste kiss. Butch was surprised she had taken the leap and made the first move— _his move_ —but was simultaneously glad for it. It was better this way, with her setting the pace. Knowing his lecherous mind, he’d move too fast and be pushing her to the ground before she was ready. He could do slow if it meant he could be slow with her.

Rosie pulled away faster than he would’ve liked, but the hand on his knee had inched a little higher, which was— _fuck_ —either she was clueless or knew _exactly_ what she was doing. Her sweet, innocent little smile told him otherwise and he gulped, resting his hand over hers if only to casually slide it back to a safer spot.

She flicked her gaze to where his bedroll was pushed up against the other set of lockers on the opposite side of the room. Not too far away, but with enough space between them that they could have their privacy. She was obviously nervous, free hand flying up to toy with her hair and glasses.

“You can…sleep closer if you want,” she said quietly, looking down at their hands. “No funny business.”

“Serious business then,” he retorted with a wink, earning a soft laugh.

Butch worked on shifting his items over as Rosie tucked away more of her belongings before moving herself into her sleeping-bag. She observed him from that spot as he mimicked her movements, ensuring most of his things were secure before stretching himself beside her beneath the thin layer of his own sleeping roll. It wasn’t quite like how he envisioned sleeping beside her—he would’ve preferred to have been invited to stay in her bed back in Rivet City—but he wasn’t about to be picky. As he stared up at the rusted ceiling, he felt her tiny hand sneak over, fingers lacing into his. For a long while he lay there, content to hold her hand until they fell asleep until he heard her soft little sigh, reigniting the baser part of him once more.

He squeezed her hand and turned his head to look at her. “Hey, Rosie…” she hummed, and when he scooted closer he claimed it as a victory when she didn’t move away. “Do…you want to make-out for a little bit?”

Her giggle was unexpected, but the sweetest sound as it echoed in the darkened maintenance room. Finally, her fingers tightened around his as she glanced over at him, eyes shining with a kind of delight he hadn’t seen before. A small nod, and she was rolling onto her side to face him. “Yes.”

A woman of few words, but that’s what he loved about her. _Love_ —his brain became cross-wired on the word, but he buried the realization deep and focused on getting lost in her kisses instead. He could figure out how to tell her how he felt later—but first he needed to figure it out for himself.

**Author's Note:**

> say hello over on tumblr @ eeveevie
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated :)


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